Inspection-ready
Chapter Summary
Echo loves a good inspection as much as the next Regulation-worshipping clone soldier. And yet, this is one he's not only dreading, but actually hoping to fail.
Chapter Notes
Some Skako-style Echo angst in this one, guys. **Trigger warning for all my homies that were blown up on Lola Sayu, sold to the Techno Union, and transformed into a human computer.**
Against his primal instincts, Echo submissively follows Thaxx from the prison cell, up a ladder well, and onto to the shuttle's main deck as the Twi'lek and TG-3 droid hold blasters to his back. He trudges along wordlessly, doing his best to emulate the movements of a mindless automaton, all the while observing everything about his surroundings. He's led into the shuttle's ready room and ordered to stand under the bright lights in the center of the compartment.
It isn't long before he feels the prolonged vibrations of the ship's thrusters hard at work, followed by the sensation of the shuttle easing down onto the surface of whichever moon they're using as a rendezvous. Shortly after the shuttle lands, Echo hears Thaxx order TG-3 to trade places with Ryybor. Obediently, the droid leaves the compartment and is replaced by the burly yellow-skinned Trandoshan moments later.
Echo doesn't chance a look directly at the reptilian bounty hunter, but he can tell that Ryybor's notably agitated. With a dour, drawn-out hiss, the Trandoshan slinks over to take up his new post.
With all three sets of shifty, wary eyes on him, Echo decides to blankly stare at an arbitrary point on the far bulkhead. He blinks slowly and keeps his breathing even, exact, and nearly imperceptible. Though he's doing his best to look idle and empty, he's listening intently to all ambient sounds and every word being exchanged between his captors.
Acting like a droid is a new strategy to him, and one that would really piss him off if he could spare the energy to think about it. Luckily, every time Echo feels his patience waning, the constant, low humming in his occipital implant provides the encouragement he needs to stay in character. As much as he wants to seize the first opportunity to start fighting, he remembers he needs to dupe these short-sighted money grubbers into overlooking his humanity and forgetting his abilities. Ever the strategist and devotee of sound tactics, Echo's able to school his emotions and project himself as the oblivious, programmable machine that his captors want him to be.
The three bounty hunters are monitoring him closely and keeping their blasters trained on their lucrative prize, but Echo notices that little by little, they're becoming less combative toward him. He suspects his lack of resistance, general demeanor of disinterest, and, above all, his visibly abundant and extreme cybernetic modifications, all contrive to reassure the crooks that he's not human anymore.
If there was ever a time that these bounty hunters second-guessed their morals or felt a sliver of shame about their role in perpetuating another being's suffering and persecution, it's now been effectively quashed by the Echo's guile. In fact, the more they converse about their bounty's aberrant appearance, the more they agree with each other that they're merely selling a computer back to the scientist who made it. For now, it seems Echo and Tech's tactical ruse is actually working and it may just buy them the precious time necessary for the Batch to find them.
Echo's still giving his best performance when he hears Thaxx receive a transmission from the TG-2 droid.
"Sir, the representative from the Techno Union is requesting an escort," reports the clanker. "His shuttle is 100 meters to the Southeast, and he's traveling alone."
"Copy, TG-2. I'm on my way to the side ramp," replies Thaxx. "Meet me there so we can go fetch our esteemed guest."
Echo wants to gag, wants to bellow a war cry, wants to attack these scumbags with all the deadly skills he's been hiding when he learns that a Techno Union member will be here any minute. But he's too good a soldier and far too faithful a brother to throw in the towel on this stunt before the timing's right.
Again, he fixates on the humming of the covert signal still streaming from his cybernetics, and it helps to ground him. Stubbornly, Echo is able to keep standing sedately in the exact spot he's likely to be crudely examined, objectified, and perhaps worse.
Keep playing their game and keep that signal going strong, Echo tells himself. This is probably about to get way harder, so do what needs to be done. The Batch is counting on you.
Echo listens as Thaxx gives a few quick instructions to his associates before leaving to collect their Skakoan visitor.
"Ryybor, Ko'haq, keep eyes on this one at all times," he tells them. "TG-3 will be down in the brig watching the mechanic, but I need you two up here, ready to great our guest when I bring him. I can see from the rotten look on your mugs that you're as miffed as I am about all this Skakoan mistrust, but it's gonna be well worth our while."
Echo hears the Trandoshan hiss in annoyance, but then he ultimately agrees to put up with the situation.
"Well worth our while," repeats the Twi'lek, cantankerously. "If you say so, Thaxx."
"I do. And I haven't steered us wrong yet," says Thaxx coolly, on his way out. "Just make sure to do all your bitching and bellyaching now before I bring the Skakoan aboard. We need to be civil until the transaction's done, and we don't wanna give our client any reason to back down on paying us what we're owed."
As soon as Thaxx leaves the compartment, Echo notices Ko'haq and Ryybor shift their positions to keep him strategically surrounded. Though the two bounty hunters don't hesitate to follow orders, Echo's not surprised that Thaxx's footfalls have barely faded away before they're loudly complaining to one another about the present circumstances.
"Why the kriff did we have to meet up all the way out here on this backwater?" gripes Ryybor. "We coulda been paid and on our way hours ago."
"Yeah, it's turning out to be a real ordeal," agrees the Twi'lek. "We're spending ten times the credits in fuel alone. And now we gotta pander to some sniveling aide just to be worthy of Tambor's time? If this ain't worth the full sum advertised, it ain't worth a womprat's ass."
"Got that right," says the Trandoshan, thoughtfully flexing his long, lethal claws. "Thaxx wouldn't let me have any sport with that mechanic either. He told me 'no use spilling any blood just yet,' but I disagree! If we're gonna waste our time and resources going parsecs outta our way, I deserve some fun."
"There'll be plenty of time for fun once we get paid, Ryybor," says Ko'haq, uneasily eying his companion's deadly talons. "The one down in the cell would bore you anyway. The nervous, meek ones are too predictable for your tastes."
If Echo wasn't so incredibly disciplined, he'd have snorted in derision right in his captives' faces. Clearly, the ARC's not the only one still in character...
"Maybe," agrees Ryybor, ignorant of the irony. "But I still wouldn't mind a distraction from all this extra legwork. How come this is all so complicated? Why can't we just drop the droid on Tambor's doorstep and be on our way?"
"Wait, you didn't hear?" asks the Twi'lek. "Oh man, it's a whole big thing. Tambor's up kriff's creek with his Separatist bosses."
"Yeah?" says Ryybor, interested in the Emir's plight.
"Yep. Tambor's still on the CIS's shitlist for losing this droid in the first place. It made him look incompetent and really hurt the Separatist cause when a lot of the neutral systems found out they'd been bankrolling twisted human experiments for years," says Ko'haq. "Once word got out that the Techno Union was aligned with the CIS, the whole guild had to go underground, abandon their foundries, and start fresh. Tambor still has to lay really low because he's on the Republic's radar now, and the CIS needs him to be extra careful in order to stay useful."
"So, they can't have faithless slobs like us doing direct business with Tambor," sneers Ryybor. "And they don't want us getting a whiff of where any of their new workshops might be."
"That's sabacc," confirms the Twi'lek. "My guess is, this trusted aide is gonna come inspect the bounty just to make sure we didn't damage it or tamper with its data. Then he'll put it in stasis and take it some roundabout, secure route to wherever Tambor's new HQ is. But they're not gonna risk all that until a loyal Skakoan confirms the identity and status of their lost science project."
"Is that why we had to drag it from a perfectly good brig to all the way up here where we can't just lock it up?" Ryybor asks.
"Yeah, the Skakoan's gonna want to do a thorough inspection," says Ko'haq. "This compartment has the best lighting and the most power outlets. Plus, the inspector's probably gonna have to check in with Tambor before they even risk transporting the bounty. This room has our best live comms setup."
Echo, still intensely eavesdropping on the entire conversation, allows himself a quick glimpse of the massive screen display at the front of the room. His gut wrenches at the thought of the wide expanse of wall being filled with a close-up of the Tambor's revolting face.
The bounty hunters break off and straighten up when they hear movement in the corridor. The door slides open with a whoosh, and Thaxx struts into the compartment with the Skakoan guest gliding imperiously at his side. TG-2 brings up the rear, pushing a large gravsled loaded with tools and highly advanced Techno Union equipment.
Meanwhile, down in the hold, Tech is restlessly and meticulously considering every possible option of escaping this brig and getting Echo to safety. The Trandoshan's substitution for one of the TG droids is likely an indication that the Skakoan inspector has arrived. He's troubled about what Echo may have to endure, yet Tech knows that his brave, stubborn vod will prevail.
The signal he rigged in Echo's cybernetics should be equally reliable, but Tech doesn't have a valid estimate of how long they could be waiting to be found. He just ardently hopes that nothing unfortunate befalls any of his brothers as he's stuck in this cell, unable to assist them.
Speaking of unfortunate, Tech can't help be aware that his mouth is dry, his head is pounding, and his body is aching with the repercussions of his neglected injuries. The blaster wound in his side was partially deflected by his plastoid cuirass, but it's still a nasty bit of trauma that makes it really uncomfortable to breathe, let alone try to move. It's likely that he sustained one or more fractured ribs when his armor rapidly dissipated some of the blaster bolt energy.
The gash in his forehead and the throbbing headache aren't doing him any favors either, and it's possible he's suffered a mild concussion. Happily, nothing feels as though it's bleeding freely anymore and this environment doesn't seem likely to put him at an unusually high risk of infection.
Other than being separated from and unable to physically protect Echo, the most frustrating feature of his current predicament is his inability to effectively see. With over half of his corrective goggles in ruin, his left eye's been painfully straining behind his remaining lens to compensate for the uselessness of the right. Tech had miraculously been able to overcome this temporary handicap while he was working on Echo, but his efforts were costly.
Now his left eye is fatigued from squinting and being overworked, and his right eye is raw and inflamed from the impact of the head injury and sore from Tech painfully forcing it to remain shut. All in all, his eyesight is far below satisfactory to him at the moment, and he's both irritated and disoriented because of it.
Steadfastly ignoring all of this, Tech takes a shallow breath and casts his bleary gaze over to the mechanical soldier posted in the doorway. Because he can't see any details clearly, he can't be sure if he's looking at TG-2 or TG-3. While deciding if he wants to inch closer to the hatch to try and get a better look at it, he's saved the trouble of doing so when the clanker receives a message.
"TG-3, it's Thaxx," says the tinny voice of the lead scoundrel via radio transmission. "Comms check."
"Loud and clear, sir," intones the droid. "How do you read me?"
"Read you the same. How's the mechanic?"
Tech hears the whir of servos as the TG-3 droid undoubtedly turns its faceplate to peer directly at and survey him. Before he can stop himself, he irritably squints right back at it.
"He hasn't moved much and hasn't spoken," reports the droid. "He's quite injured and is likely succumbing to fatigue and blood loss."
Tech sniffs indignantly at the droid's meager observations. He's not succumbing to anything! He's merely reserving his energy and taking advantage of the muted atmosphere in order to analyze and scheme.
"Yeah, well he didn't look so hot from the start, I can't imagine he's gotten any healthier," says Thaxx. "TG-2 and I will be back in two minutes with the Skakoan inspector. Something tells me we're gonna need the mechanic to weigh in on our bounty's value. Lemme know if he starts keeling over, we can always give him a stim shot."
"Roger," says TG-3 dutifully, lowering its hand-like appendage back down to grip its weapon.
Tech ponders Thaxx's words and contemplates how this new information can be beneficial to him. So far, he knows that all of the security mechanisms for the brig are outside in the passageway, and he's been unable to find anything within the compartment he can electronically or physically manipulate to his advantage. Yet, however seemingly mundane, any overheard information may help him piece together a plan or be useful to him in the near future.
...
It's frustrating to think about just how close he'd come to goading the short-fused Trandoshan into opening the cell. Tech's well-aware that mature T'doshok are renowned for their exceptional hunting skills, but that it's the males who particularly relish in the thrill of it. By simply voicing a few carefully constructed comments, Tech was able to both annoy the sullen Ryybor and stoke his fiery ego.
All Tech had to do was inform Ryybor how all clone cadets are taught that "T'doshok are a passive people who despise hunting and violence of any kind and forage to support their strictly herbivorous diets." He'd further revealed that cadets are imbued with the knowledge that "Trandoshans never grow to be warriors due to their long tradition of coddling their young. As such, any clone soldier should effectively dismiss them as a threat if they encounter the species."
Tech had pretended he was merely confused by this apparent misinformation and innocently asked to know which part of the lessons needed to be rectified. Ryybor had been shaking in fury and barely able to sputter a valid response.
The memory of the dialogue brings a thin, weary grin to Tech's boyish face. The bounty hunter, Ryybor, had reacted splendidly. The egotistical di'kut was not only threatening to show the "very apologetic" prisoner how wrong the Kaminoan curriculum is, but was just moments away from opening the hatch to physically vent his anger on the captive. If the Trandoshan would've been foolish enough to holster his blaster, enter the cell, and get close, Tech would have uncoiled from the bulkhead like a Moraband serpent faster than Ryybor could have said "reverse psychology."
Logically, Tech knows his injuries could have prevented him from gaining any advantage in that situation, but he suspects that Ryybor would not have killed him, even if given the chance. In fact, Tech expects that Thaxx will call on his technical knowledge when the Skakoan's inspection of Echo inevitably starts to turn sour. Altogether, it's likely that Ryybor has been ordered to keep him alive and Tech is perfectly ready to risk further non-fatal injuries if presented with an opportunity to escape. Regardless, the TG droid had shown up to relieve Ryybor before Tech got a chance to take any of those risks.
...
Reflecting on the suspiciously well-timed change of guard, Tech wonders about Thaxx's confidence in his crewmate, Ryybor. Perhaps, the leader doesn't trust the Trandoshan to control his temper when left alone and he switched him out with TG-3 for safe measure. In any case, Tech isn't sure how he's going to beguile the TG-3 droid into opening or entering the cell. From his limited interaction with the TG model droids so far, Tech recognizes that their tactical AI is superior in a way he's never studied before and that manipulating TG-3 is not going to be as simple as it was with the Trandoshan guard.
Initially, Tech considers the option of waiting for a few minutes and then pretending to pass out so that TG-3 will need to enter the compartment to assess and revive him. However, Tech acknowledges that his physical condition has progressively declined and, if he were to close his eyes and lay still, he's apt to genuinely lose consciousness. For the sake of time and the ability to keep actively thinking, he decides to forgo this idea.
For now, Tech elects to keep brainstorming. Though his ailing body is imploring him to sleep, he's determined to discern a way to escape this cell, get to Echo, or get to a comm station. Ideally, he'll discover a way to accomplish all three, and all before Echo is harmed any further.
But up in the ready room, Echo is already about to be harmed further.
Though the ARC is able to curb any visible giveaways of his extreme duress, panic rises up and lodges in his throat when he hears the unmistakable sound of a Skakoan's pressure suit gliding into the compartment.
Echo watches with concealed terror as Thaxx leads his guest into the chamber. Without any drastic changes in his posture, Echo's able to get a good look at the Skakoan inspector. As he expected, the aide is decked out in a full pressure suit and mask to accommodate his biochemistry for the atmosphere on the moon and on the shuttle. But Echo can still see the folded, purple skin and the beady, black eyes peering over the substantial collar and vocalizer. He looks exactly like the Skakoan tormentors do in all of his nightmares and Echo can almost feel their knives slicing into him and their icy, clinging presence charting and supplanting his own conscience.
Just behind Thaxx and the Skakoan nightmare, Echo sees the TG-2 droid pushing a large gravsled into the room. It's stacked high with the inspector's equipment, tools, and a portable worktable. Echo tries not to be disturbed by how incredibly heavy the load seems, or the fact that the workbench looks like it's been fabricated to accommodate the ARC's own unique form.
True to his efforts to appear civil, Thaxx charmingly introduces the Skakoan to the other bounty hunters in the room.
"Ko'haq, Ryybor," the leader tries to say cordially. "I give you the honorable Met Voltaro, appointed representative to our client for the duration of our transaction. Representative Voltaro, these are my associates, Ko'haq Birat and Ryybor'wassak'Rwrygesst."
Echo can't see how the others are reacting to the clumsy introduction, but he notices that the Skakoan, Met Voltaro, dips his ugly head stiffly in greeting before addressing them all.
At first, Voltaro only emits the warbling, halting noises of his native tongue until he adjusts the module dials on his pressure suit, and it's translated into basic.
"Excuse me," he starts over. "Thank you for having me and for understanding Emir Tambor's precarious situation. I'm eager to examine the bounty. Emir will be most pleased and is prepared to pay you in full if you have the bounty in as good condition as you claim."
The artless, guttural, droning of Voltaro's speech transports Echo right back to that cyber Sarlacc Pit where he was held captive for over a year, and he's fighting every instinct to attack and fight back. In order to calm his hunger for violence and justice, he thinks about Tech, bloodied and blinded, still locked away in the brig. He listens to the hum of the secret broadcast that his ingenious brother rigged and remembers that he needs to keep playing the game. Their brothers could already be on the way, and all he needs to do is hold out and keep transmitting until help arrives.
"The bounty on this unit has been posted for quite some time," Echo hears Voltaro warble as he beckons TG-2 to push the gravsled further and directs the droid to start unloading certain items. "If I may, how did you and your men come by it?"
"We were doing a job on Nordis Prime and we went to a trade show run by some weapons specialists who defected from the CIS. They were going on and on about these three TG droid prototypes they had. Said they'd stolen them from RND and that they're like beefed up B-1s crossed with Commando droids and Droidekas– real top-shelf products and hot off the line. Honestly, we'd heard sales pitches like that before and we weren't interested," explains Thaxx. "But then they mentioned that the TG prototypes can track and target specific cybernetic organics using some kinda electronic countermeasures. Now, me and the boys have been shopping bounties together for a few years and the one on your droid was such a big payout that it stuck with us. We figured these TG droids might be exactly what we needed to capture the droid-clone and so we … acquired all three and tracked and captured it shortly after."
"Impressive," says Voltaro, shooting TG-2 an appraising look. "Very impressive. I imagine Emir will take an interest in your droids and may even make you an offer for them."
"Sounds great," Echo hears Thaxx say, glancing over to his partners. "Ko'haq? Ryybor?"
"Sure," Echo hears the Twi'lek answer.
"Yesss," the Trandoshan hisses, greedily.
"And your droids were capable of this function," continues Voltaro as he unpacks some of his smaller tools and draws ever closer to Echo, "without causing any harm to the experiment— ah, I mean the bounty?"
No, Echo thinks to himself peevishly, remembering his scomp-arm being cranked against his will and the excruciating pain of having his cybernetic implants torn from his head. No. Negative. Nope.
"Oh, yes," Thaxx vows to the inspector with a smile. "Handled with care."
"Excellent," says Voltaro choosing some equipment and drifting into Echo's personal space. "Once we've- oh no..."
The Skakoan, having prepared to begin his inspection, breaks off his speech to wail his abrupt discontent.
Finally noticed, have you? Echo thinks. That's right Skako, I got a makeover. Courtesy of the GAR you vile osi'kovid.
"Oh no! No! No, no, no!" Voltaro laments. "This is all wrong! What's happened to the experiment?"
"Wait, what?" says Thaxx, taken aback. Echo can hear the alarm in the bounty hunter's voice. "What do you mean all wrong? This is exactly how it looked when we captured it."
Echo feels the Skakoan's evil little eyes sweeping over everything from the custom occipital implant in his head down to his human-like synthetic feet. Voltaro is apparently so distraught at what he sees that it takes some time for him to answer the bounty hunter's question.
"This unit," the Skakoan finally manages, and it sounds to Echo like he's starting to recoup from his initial meltdown. "It's been heavily, heavily modified."
"Well," says Thaxx defensively. "Emir Tambor can't fault us for that. We didn't do anything to it but bring it to you. And very rapidly, I might add."
"Indeed," says Voltaro, fretting increasingly less. "Indeed. I've overreacted."
"That's alright," Thaxx assures him. "We all do it. Now about payment, I'm assuming we still get our promised sum?"
"Hmph," says Voltaro gliding over to a tool chest, producing a tool that Echo can't see from his current angle, and gliding around to the other side of him. "That remains to be seen."
As he's listening to what Thaxx has to say in protest, Echo feels the sharp jab of a blunt weapon in the small of his back. Before he can so much as blink, he's overcome by a surge of painful electricity. The current courses upward and downward from the point of contact and consumes his entire body, up to his neck, in a series of violent painful spasms that almost cause him to blackout.
In the wake of the unexpected assault, he loses feeling in all of his prosthetic anatomy and collapses stiffly to the deck in a jarring display of what little of his body's composition is still organic. When he's finally able to blink away the pain and the static, he's lying on the floor looking up at the confused face of Thaxx and the cold, expressionless face of the Skakoan.
"Whoa-whoa! What the hell was that, Voltaro?" demands Thaxx, confused by the Skakoan's abrupt attack on the valuable bounty. "I thought you didn't want to damage it!"
"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't," explains Voltaro as he circles around the captive. Echo glares at him from the deck, daring the Skakoan to be present when his squad finally arrives. "But according to the standards of my guild, this unit's already been heavily 'damaged' by these absurd and copious modifications."
Beneath his stony exterior, Echo is seething. He can't wait until he can personally help redefine the meaning of "damaged" for this Skakoan and his entire kriffing guild.
"There's a lot here that I'm unfamiliar with and I can't take any chances," Voltaro continues. "In any case, I didn't harm it any further. I immobilized it from the neck down because I don't yet know how each of these new components will respond to my tests."
"Understandable," Thaxx allows, skeptically. "But don't forget that my TG unit is capable of restraining it. Feel free to use TG-2 to help you with… well, whatever it is that you're gonna do now."
"I appreciate it. I'll have to inform Emir about how hospitable you've been during this transaction," says Voltaro before turning to Thaxx's guard. "TG-2, lay the unit on my workbench, facedown. Cutaway the garment top."
Echo watches as the TG-2 approaches and crouches downward to lift him bodily from the floor. The droid's strong and proficient, and doesn't have any trouble manhandling the heavier-than-average ARC trooper. He places Echo onto Voltaro's table, rolls him onto his stomach, and slices away his tunic.
Echo wonders if the morally-bankrupt bounty hunters, the Skakoan, or even the TG-2 droid feel anything when they gaze upon his exposed back. When the bright lights of the ready room shine directly upon and illuminate the massive scars and the distorted merging of pale, tired flesh and durasteel where his cybernetics and prosthetics have been excruciatingly drilled into forever. Of all the ways he changed after Lola Sayu, Echo thinks it's his cybernetic spine and neck implants that serve as the most shocking reminders of just how close he'd come to having his humanity stolen from him.
Before he loses himself in that familiar spiral of self-doubt and shame, the sound of Thaxx's approaching footsteps snags his attention.
"So... you deactivated it?" Thaxx inquires.
Echo rolls his eyes at the bounty hunter's sudden curiosity. He knows this sly bounty hunter will now show a respectful interest in the Skakoan's work, but in truth, Thaxx just wants to ensure Voltaro doesn't spoil the bounty before he gets his payment.
"No, no it's still very much awake," informs Voltaro, retrieving several more tools and devices from his kit. "It's just unable to move from the neck down."
Echo hasn't been so severely poked and prodded with so many different tools and devices since he was evaluated by GAR medical personnel on Anaxes. Though it had been for his own health and safety, it had still been absolutely terrible.
What Voltaro's doing to him now is definitely worse, but there's an upside to it.
To Met Voltaro's extreme chagrin, it's becoming evident that the tools manufactured by his precious guild are no longer compatible with any of Echo's prosthetic or cybernetic anatomy. Through trial and error, the increasingly embittered Skakoan discovers that while some of the Techno Union connectors and adapters can physically fit into Echo's ports, any attempts at conducting a useful signal don't do anything but painfully shock the subject.
Echo almost wishes he was laying facing up just so Voltaro can witness the triumphant grinning he's doing in between the jolts delivered to him by the Skakoan's pointless efforts.
As the examination continues, Echo hears Voltaro complain about how his prosthetics have a much more human shape compared to the appendages the Techno Union originally fitted him with. Thus far, Echo's been allowed to keep his leggings, but Voltaro orders them removed when the drastic difference between his Skako-issued legs and his new ones becomes obvious- even through the opaque, compression fabric.
Echo hears the TG-2 moving around as ordered and he's surprised when he feels the draft of chilly, recycled air against his prosthetic thighs as the black leggings are cut away.
This has to be a good sign, he thinks, realizing the paralytic effect must be starting to wear off. He's tempted to start testing his mobility so he can gauge how much longer it'll be until he can go full ARC on this production. But the shrewd strategist in him knows it's wiser to conceal his returning abilities until the moment he's ready to show his hand.
Echo's distracted from his discovery when realizes that TG-2 has finished with the fabric sheers. Nothing remains of his uniform other than his GAR-issued compression briefs. He'd probably be mortified if he wasn't already so busy thinking of a way to get himself and Tech out of their harrowing situation.
"A droid wearing briefs. Now I've seen it all," sniggers Thaxx from the sideline, merrily elbowing Ko'haq. "OK, I get that it had armor and a kama for military uniformity. But the briefs? That's overkill."
"Yes," agrees the Skakoan in what Echo thinks is a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. "The concept of modesty no longer applied to the experiment when it was in our possession. But, for reasons I can't fathom, the unit's been fitted with prosthetics that mimic all aspects of its original human anatomy… an excessive waste of time and resources, of course."
Because I'm not a kriffing droid you di'kut, Echo chants internally at the Skakoan, in the same tempo he might use for speaking to a youngling... or perhaps Wrecker in certain instances. I'm a vod, an ARC Trooper, and always will be.
"TG-2", the Skakoan summons the droid again. "Place the unit on its back now. I need an anterior view."
Alright Trooper, Echo coaches himself before he's rolled over and can no longer hide his facial expressions. Tech's still down there, still hurting, and you're still broadcasting the signal. Keep your cool.
Echo conducts himself brilliantly as he's stiffly, indecorously rolled onto his back. Other than clenching his jaw against the discomfort he feels from the Skakoan's endless probing, he keeps his face pretty much frozen in a scowl. He assumes that the Skakoan's aware that Echo's at least observing his own surroundings, so he continues to do it and decides it's safe as long as he doesn't visibly react to anything he sees.
Also, no one seemed to notice, but while Echo was being turned, he managed to successfully twitch the fingers on his hand. He thinks this might mean that his body is metabolizing the paralytic at a rate faster than what the Skakoan expected.
...
For a while, the Skakoan continues the inspection in a diligent silence that's only broken by the whirring of tools or the disgruntled noises Voltaro makes each time another connection attempt fails. Even Thaxx, who still hovers anxiously nearby, isn't asking any questions or making any comments about the bounty's value.
It's not until Voltaro seemingly gives up on making a local connection and is raising the worktable to a higher elevation that Thaxx decides he and his men are due for an update.
"How- erm, so how's it looking?" Thaxx hedges hopefully. "It's still in good shape, right? Still valuable?"
Voltaro shoots the bounty hunter a withering look.
"That still remains to be seen," the Skakoan says cryptically. "Can you place your holotransmitter on standby? I'll be checking in with Emir Tambor, shortly."
"You got it," says Thaxx, turning to bark the command over his shoulder. "TG-2, get on that."
"He will need to see the experiment in real-time," explains Voltaro. "I'm sure you understand."
"Yeah, sure, fine," says Thaxx, hastily. "But you're keeping me in the dark here, Voltaro, and my men and I don't take kindly to that. Now, tell us what you're figuring for a bounty based on what you've seen so far."
Echo watches as Voltaro squints disdainfully at the bounty hunter.
"Very well," Voltaro decides. "Here's your update. Though the alterations to the experiment are unorthodox and inconvenient, there are some custom components here that are simply remarkable."
"Remarkable?" says Thaxx, his attitude toward the Skakoan suddenly improving.
"Yes, some of the best work I've ever seen. The modifications done by the GAR's engineers and technicians are ingenious and the craftsmanship is excellent. It appears a team of highly skilled innovators is dedicated to this unit; it must be very valuable to them."
He might do the talking of a whole team, but he's just one guy, thinks Echo proudly of Tech. The rest is true enough, though.
"Glad to hear it," says Thaxx unconvincingly. "I just wanna know how that's gonna translate into credits paid to me and my crew."
"I'm sure you do," says Voltaro. "But I don't have an answer for you yet. I need more time."
Again, the Skakoan is left in relative peace as he glides around Echo's prone form, muttering curses and grudging praise in almost equal measure.
...
Echo's not sure how much time has passed when Voltaro finally declares that he has a few updates for the bounty hunter.
"The physical modifications, while impeccable and impressive, will of course be stripped and discarded. The true value of this bounty lies in the information stored in its memories and databanks and in its ability to interface with computer systems so that we can access it," says Voltaro gliding over and stopping when he gets close to Echo's head. The ARC can see his cold, dead eyes staring down at his occipital implant. "But the obstacle to all of this seems to be routed in this custom headpiece it now has."
"That band around the back of its head?" asks Thaxx dubiously. "I saw a sentient on Corellia wearing one just like it. And Ko'haq knew a slaver who installed them in his security cadre. Can't you just, I dunno, remove it?"
"No, it's not that simple," admits Voltaro angrily. "This is not the generic AJ^6 cyborg construct that you've seen before. This highly customized, highly complex device is in a category of its own, and it's been painstakingly encrypted to prevent an outside influence from corrupting and accessing it. There's no way to properly, safely interface with or access any of its programs without access to this cybernetic headpiece."
"Why don't you just ask it to give you the access?" says Thaxx.
"Ask it?!" roars Voltaro. "Ask this unit, this property of Techno Union, as if it has command and control and of its invaluable assets? Ha! The soft-bellied GAR fools may very well have restored some semblance of the free will it once had as a human, but the Republic would never trust it with the access codes."
"Uhhh OK," says Thaxx, sounding to Echo just as irritated and confused as ever. "So then, what now?"
"Now," says Voltaro. "I consult with Emir and ask him how he wants me to proceed."
"Get me a closer to it," demands Wat Tambor, as his foul, stuttering voice is broadcasted via holotrasmission connection. "I want to see it for myself."
"Yes, Emir," says Voltaro holding the holocorder close to Echo's head so that Tambor can get a good look at the cybernetic headpiece that's causing all the controversy. "As you can see, it's quite complex and there are aspects of it that don't make any sense. See this padded ridge along the dorsal edge? This serves absolutely no purpose other than to allow the unit to lay comfortably… it's pure madness."
"Madness it may be," allows Tambor. "But it's also a serious problem, Met. Tell me again what happened when you tried to access its neural system."
"I-I... was unable to," says Voltaro. If Echo didn't know any better, he'd swear he could see sweat starting to bead on the purple Skakoan's forehead. "At first, there was nothing but static on my visual readout. T-then…"
"Tell me," Tambor ordered "I'm almost out of time on this channel, unless I want to be traced. Speak."
"Then," Voltaro swallows. "Then, a graphic appeared... a crude, pixilated image of a clone soldier making a vulgar gesture, that drifted around my display. Then it-
"Enough!" bellows Tambor. "I am out of time and almost out of patience with this fiasco. I won't risk transporting the experiment to a Techno Union premises until that Republic-built headpiece is properly removed so that I can access its neural system and consult the algorithm. You will find a way to access the clone's cerebral interface, Met Voltaro. Or else, you will find yourself paying the ultimate price. And these bounty hunters of yours won't get a single credit... they'll probably dispose of you before I even get the chance to do so!"
Echo can't help but feel relieved when the giant display of Wat Tambor's transmission blinks back into a blank wall as the call abruptly ends. While hearing Tambor's voice was triggering for the trauma he suffered on Skako Minor, he admits that the exchange could be viewed as a win for him and Tech.
Not only is Echo's security program working beautifully, but he and Tech now have more time before either one of them is executed or shipped to Tambor, or worse. Moreover, neither the bounty hunters nor the Skakoans have yet discovered the tracking signal that Echo's still broadcasting to Republic ears. Tech and Echo were still in a world of trouble here, but the duo's situation could be much worse.
It could also be much better, Echo thinks to himself as he watches Voltaro pace around the workbench, thinking of the best way to break into, overtake, and destroy his humanity. He thinks of Tech down in the prison cell, fidgeting with nothing to do, and likely in dire need of medical care. He even thinks fondly of Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker tearing the galaxy apart, making every effort to find them, whether high command allows it or not.
Then, Voltaro addresses the bounty hunters, and Echo gives his full attention to their conversation.
"Well, gentlemen," announces the Skakoan, wringing his hands. "It seems more than just your prize money's at stake now."
"What do you mean?" asks the Twi'lek edging closer to his boss as a sign of aggression against the Skakoan.
"Yeah," hisses the Trandoshan, mirroring the Twi'lek. "This smells like bad business, Voltaro. And we'll find a way to get something out of you."
"Now, now, this ain't over yet," placates Thaxx. "We all want the same thing. Voltaro, you need to access the droid's fancy new hardware... software... whatever. You need access to it so you can remove any Republic tricks and send your little experiment, risk-free, to wherever the Techno Union's sewing its ugly seeds these days. You don't get access, your head's gonna roll. And frankly, we couldn't give a mynock's shit about your head."
Voltaro's lack of response is confirmation enough.
"But we do give a mynock's shit about the substantial bounty we're owed," Thaxx continues. "So, in favor of all of our interests, I have a confession to make."
"A confession?" says the Skakoan, surprised. "Unless you confess to me that you have the access codes, I doubt it's anything I need to hear."
"I confess," says Thaxx slyly. "That there's another clone in our prison. I confess that the droid-clone came with a friend. A friend that knows a lot about the ins and outs of your experiment and has already proven capable of fixing its cybernetics."
Still mostly paralyzed, laid out on the worktable like the experiment that the Skakoans claim he is, Echo feels as though the room's in hyperspace and the outside airlock just failed. Tech...
"I stand corrected," says the Skakoan keenly. "This is an interesting development in our... shared dilemma. The clone in your hold has technical knowledge of the experiment, you say?"
"He's a mechanic and more," confirms Thaxx. "In fact, I think, he designed most of these 'modifications' that you and Tambor hate so much. I think he knows how to access what we need."
"But will he tell us?" asks the Skakoan. "Will the clone cooperate?"
"You just stay up here and keep trying to make some progress with the droid-clone," says Thaxx. "TG-2 will stay with you while the guys and I go down and ask him."
"He'll talk," hisses Ryybor confidently, drumming the razor-sharp claws on his hands and feet in sick anticipation. "He'll either tell us those codes, or he'll be screaming them."